


A Haircut

by lovelyauthor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cultural Differences, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Fluff, Hair, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 08:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyauthor/pseuds/lovelyauthor
Summary: Hair doesn't mean much to hobbits, unless you count the hair on their feet. It didn't occur to Bilba that dwarves might feel and think otherwise.Another short little thing I wrote about a year ago when I was writing about a dozen different Hobbit AU's.





	A Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> This was greatly inspired by another fanfic, from what I can remember, but for the life of me, I can't find it in my hobbit fic folder. So if this sounds familiar to anyone and you think you know which fanfic it is, please message me. I want to give a proper "this fic inspired this fic" credit.

Hair didn’t matter in the Shire, just as long as it was clean and tame. Short, long, no one really had a preference. For all her life, Bilba had long hair because her mother had pretty, long, dark hair and while Bilba’s was much lighter, she strived to make it just as pretty. For years she cared for it until it was softer than silk and the curls were just right. But being on the road, her hair was a mess, even tied up or in a braid.

Bilba just barely resisted yelling when her long braid got hooked on another branch. The boys, Fili and Kili, did nothing to improve her mood by taunting and teasing her.

“That’s it!” Bilba shrieked and pulled out her trusty Elven letter opener.

She grabbed her braid, pulled it tight, and started to push the tiny sword against it. She would have cut it all off if Fili hadn’t grabbed her wrist and handed the letter opener to his brother. Bilba opened her mouth to lecture him, but her words died in her throat at the tears gathering in both of their eyes. She paled a little when she realized the rest of the company watched them with wide eyes.

“Bilba, you don’t have to cut your hair. Brother and I were just teasing, we swear! If we have grievously wronged you, then we greatly apologize!” Fili said and Kili embraced the hobbit lass.

“We didn’t mean it, honest, Miss Baggins. Don’t cut your hair!” Kili exclaimed, leaving Bilba feeling warm and fuzzy, but also confused.

“I know you boys were teasing, but it’s time to cut it off--”

Bilba jumped at the sudden uproar by the company her words caused. They yelled about injustices, handing out punishments, and the dwarves she had grown the most fond of were pleading with her not to cut her hair. She blinked when Bifur signed in a blur of motion that even Bofur and Bombur struggled to read. She had an idea of how precious and symbolic hair was in their culture. But this was confusing. So, quietly, she grabbed Sting, stuck it into the ground, and cleared her throat a few times to get everyone’s attention.

“I believe we have some cultural confusion. You see, hair doesn’t mean a lot in the Shire, unless you count the hair on our feet. But even then, we only strive to keep it clean and well groomed. Cutting hair isn’t the end of Arda and by cutting it, no one has, what was it, Gloin? Caused me injustice. I just like not having it not caught on every branch and getting tangles impossible to remove. You dwarrow have fine, straight hair, and while I love my curls, it is a pain in the arse,” Bilba explained eloquently with her hands folded in front of her. “So, when I cut my hair, I don’t want you handing out punishments left and right. Respect my decision and carry on.”

Before they could say another word, Bilba picked up her letter opener and cut her hair in on swift motion. The cut was uneven, but she felt infinitely better. The company choked on their words but Bilba appreciated the effort it took them to not question her decision. She held her braid in her hand and looked it over. Something her mother told her when she was just a fauntling came to mind and a smile tugged at her lips.

“I forgot. We do have one tradition with cutting hair, but it’s more for the girls. Sometimes, we cut a lock of hair and give it to those we have feelings for. It’s a way of saying we wouldn’t mind being courted by them,” Bilba said, sheathing Sting at her side and continued walking. She might was well hit two birds with one stone. “It’s silly, but I like it. My mother did something like that when she was young and took a fancy to my father.”

“Oh, aye? What did she do?” Bofur asked with a curious smile

Bilba smiled sweetly. “She took all of her lovely hair, put it in the prettiest braid, cut it all off, and threw it at him. Mother made quite the scandalous statement. The neighbors just couldn’t stop talking about it until they got married.” She stopped in front of her dear friend and pressed her braid in his hands, eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I am a Baggins, so it would be much more polite if I handed you mine.”

Bilba winked and walked down the path once more, whistling a jaunty tune. She grinned when the Company erupted into roars of laughter and cheers. Not a moment later, Bofur was at her side, red faced with the biggest smile.


End file.
